


Sincerely, Her Royal Highness Jupiter Jones

by LotusMuse



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, One Shot, Post-Canon, post-Jupiter Ascending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 09:31:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3405680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LotusMuse/pseuds/LotusMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It turned out one of the things a planetary queen had to deal with was mail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sincerely, Her Royal Highness Jupiter Jones

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to **byebyebriar** for looking over a piece I hammered out while riding the bus to and from work. All mistakes are mine.

It turned out one of the things a planetary queen had to deal with was mail.

Caine had presented her one evening with what he described as an 'FTL dropbox that had access to various scribe networks should she be interested'. Whatever that meant she translated it as some sort of space Gmail account. The thing hovered a few inches off of any surface, glowed blue and she had no idea where she was going to keep it. It was about the size of her hand so she ended up buying another makeup bag and stuffing it in there praying neither of her aunts or cousins would open it to borrow something.

"It started beeping," Jupiter said, her legs swinging over the side of the building where she and Caine were seated. A bottle of wine and two glasses between them.

"You've got mail," Caine replied simply. Jupiter rolled her eyes.

"Yes, I figured that much but how do I check it? I pressed what looked like a button and it started to smell weird like really old cheese. Or my uncle's feet." She added ruefully.

"You must have either activated a translation or it was mail from someone who understands deltivid. Their language uses scents for inflections."

"I'm guessing that particular smell didn't mean anything polite," Jupiter remarked dryly.

"Do you want me to show you how to use it?" He prodded gently. Jupiter sighed, "Gimme one more chance to figure it out myself before I admit defeat."

Caine smiled and rested his head atop hers. That night, as they looked through her telescope, she picked a random sun and listened to him talk about far away places her father would have only dreamed of.

***

The following night, after everyone had gone to bed, Jupiter locked herself in the bathroom and sat on the toilet staring at the little box floating just above her hand. She'd stuffed all the towels along the door seams as best she could just in case it started emitting funky smells again.

It floated, silently mocking her.

"Alright, I refuse to let space email get the best of me," she hissed under her breath and plucked the box gently out of the air. She ran her fingers across its smooth surface until she felt a slight seam on the side. Using her thumbnail, she picked at it until a small, flat surface popped out. She blinked and gently pressed her finger against it.

Nothing happened.

"Maybe I do need help," Jupiter muttered, her spirits crashing down. Abruptly the machine's soft beeping stopped and a light feminine voice asked, "Your Majesty, do you require assistance?" The little panel under her finger snapped back from her.

"Uh...Yeah, hi. Um, what's your name?"

"I am designated 00-23478-JJ-SARH-A, here to receive uplinks and data downloads for you, Your Majesty."

"Right... That's quite a mouthful. Can I just call you Sarah?"

The machine hummed a little louder and replied: "New designation accepted, Your Majesty."

"Cool," Jupiter grinned, "So how much mail do I have?"

"You have 875,432 messages received in the last 24 Earth hours, Your Majesty."

"How many in total?" Jupiter's voice was suddenly very small.

"3,476,893, Your Majesty."

"Is that with or without a spam filter," Jupiter mumbled, feeling her thrill at getting the tiny mailbox to work dissipating.

"Your query does not process, Your Majesty."

"Um, can we sort the mail, Sarah?"

"Certainly, Your Majesty."

"How about anything marked priority?"

"72,894 messages found, Your Majesty."

That was kind of better.

"How about... Anything from Oras?"

"54,663."

This was getting nowhere fast.

"Can you cross-reference? Anything relating to the Earth without having anything to do with the Abarasax?" 

"Of course, Your Majesty. You have 2,344 messages within those specifications." 

Jupiter beamed, "Please, just call me Jupiter." 

***

A few days later when Jupiter met up with Caine for their standing date she proudly pulled Sarah out of her bag. Her reward was an extra long kiss and a nuzzle against her cheek. Jupiter snuggled her face against his chest. Silently enjoying his arms around her.

"I knew you'd figure it out," Caine said softly.

"Sarah and I managed to sort the crapload of mail down to a few thousand so theoretically I should be finished by the time I'm old and grey."

Caine gave her a puzzled look, "Sarah?"

"That's my mailbox's name. Her designation was a bit too much of a mouthful. Although..." she glanced at the floating box, "Any new messages, Sarah?"

"Your Majesty, Jupiter has 12,637 new messages in the last 24 Earth hours," Sarah said primly. Jupiter groaned and rubbed her temples, "God it just doesn't stop."

"Most Entitled have several people to deal with their mail for them," Caine remarked and Jupiter gave him a dirty look.

"I don't think I'll get many serious bites on Craigslist with an ad that says 'looking for unpaid intern to sort through endless royal spam."

Caine chuckled.

"How about this," Jupiter looked back at Sarah, lacking a face Jupiter focused on the round bump that she assumed was the speaker where Sarah's 'voice' seemed to be coming from, "Can you send a message for me?"

"Certainly, Your Majesty Jupiter, that is one of my primary functions," the little mailbox honestly sounded rather pleased that she'd asked.

"Reply to every person who has sent me a message with this: 'Her Royal Highness is unable to accept any further messages for the foreseeable future. Your queries are currently being processed and will be dealt with in due time. Thank you for your patience. Her Royal Highness, Jupiter Jones."

Jupiter let out a long breath, "You got all that?"

"Yes, Your Majesty, Jupiter."

"Cool. Then send."

Caine was grinning at her, "That was very diplomatically done although it still doesn't get you through all of your mail."

"Well, having seen how your people's bureaucracy works it should probably buy me at least a couple eons."

Caine laughed and Jupiter wondered if maybe she might be figuring out this royalty thing after all. Piece by piece.


End file.
